Unlimited Isekai 46 Mana (Patreon)

Dave dragged himself back to the shed, each step heavier than the last, feeling as if the weight of his newfound knowledge was pressing down upon him. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, the memory from the absolute charisma spell still burning within him like a dark reminder of the evil that Cedez was holding back with her Shadow.

The door to the shed creaked open, its hinges protesting against the intrusion as Dave stepped inside, seeking solace and refuge from his own thoughts. The rays of light cast long shadows on the walls, which seemed to close in around him, suffocating him with their oppressive silence.

"I heard screaming," Remicra commented, her voice cutting through the stillness like a knife. She looked at Dave's pale face, her eyes filled with concern, and she couldn't help but wonder what had transpired between him and Cedez. "What's going on?"

Dave hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to put into words the enormity of the revelation he had just experienced. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid that speaking any louder would shatter the fragile balance of the world around him.

"Cedez is the... ward of Shandria personified," he revealed, each word feeling like a heavy stone in his mouth. "She's the Sovereign, her Divine Shadow protecting the city, feeding on slave collars and pyramidal runes."

Remicra's eyes widened at the revelation, her mind racing to comprehend the implications of what Dave had just shared.

"I see," Remicra said, her voice filled with a mixture of awe and understanding. "I was wondering why I no longer feel like I'm getting years of my life and half of my mana sucked out of me."

Dave nodded, his eyes downcast.

"You firmly let her know not to screw with my head with her charisma bullshit and to stay away from our residence?" the dragoness asked, her voice tinged with a mixture of irritation and curiosity.

"I did," Dave nodded, his face etched with lines of worry and regret. "I... don't know if she will be back. I think I've managed to piss her off."

"Good," Remicra smiled, her lips quirking up into a wicked grin that revealed her razor-sharp teeth. Her eyes glinted with a mischievous light, as if she relished the thought of no longer having to share Dave's attention. "No more fox-shaped distractions. Come here and help me make bricks. This forge isn’t going to build itself."

Dave acquiesced with a nod, his shoulders slumping with resignation as he followed her through the stone shed. Together, Dave and Remicra began the tedious task of making bricks from rune-expanded barrels filled with sand and clay that they pilfered from the smithy.

As they worked, Dave couldn't help but feel a growing sense of emptiness within him, a void that seemed to echo with the absence of the foxgirl’s cheerful smile. He knew that he had made a mistake, and the consequences and the sight of Shandria and Remicra burning to ashes weighed heavily upon him. But even as he toiled away under the blacksmith’s watchful gaze, a small, stubborn part of him refused to give up hope that perhaps, one day, he might be able to make things right with Cedez.

. . .

"Hey Remy, what's mana?" Dave asked, while taking a brief break as they embarked on the second day of forge-building. The sun was shining brightly overhead, casting warm light across the bustling construction site. Sawdust and dirt swirled around them, carried on a gentle breeze that did little to alleviate the heat of their labor. "Also, how does magic work?"

Remicra paused in her work, wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she considered the question, her gaze momentarily distant as she delved into the depths of her knowledge. The dragoness, though focused on their task, seemed to appreciate an opportunity to share her wisdom with her human companion.

"Mana," she began, her voice low and steady, "is the life force that flows through all living things. It is the very essence of compressed magic, the fuel that allows us to harness the powers of the universe and bend them to our will."

She gestured with a clawed hand, tracing intricate patterns in the air as if to illustrate her point. Her eyes glowed with an inner light, the intensity of her passion for the subject shining through.

"Mana is made in your soul acting as a small furnace, drawing sparks of magic forth from anywhere on Arxtruria, holding it within your body as first as radiance and then as microscopic crystalline-organic formations. These can be channeled into abilities or spells. The more mana one can hold in their soul and body the more powerful their magic will be. But it is not just a matter of brute force," Remicra cautioned, as she regarded Dave intently. "True mastery of magic comes from understanding the delicate balance of energies, the intricate dance of power and control that lies at the heart of all spellcasting."

As she spoke, Dave could not help but be captivated by her words, the eloquence of her explanation painting a vivid picture in his mind. He attempted to visualise the world in a new light, imagining the intricate web of magical energies that connected all living things.

"So, is it like a muscle?" Dave asked, his brow furrowed as he sought to grasp the complexities of the arcane. "The more you use it, the stronger it gets?"

"In a way, yes," Remicra replied, her lips curling into a knowing smile. "But it is also about learning to control and refine that power, to wield it with precision and skill. In the hands of a true master, even the smallest trickle of mana can be as devastating as a raging torrent. The more you work on your chosen skill, the more magic you pull through it, the greater it becomes and the more your soul aligns with it."

"Ah, specialization matters, yes?" Dave asked.

"Indeed," Remicra affirmed, her voice taking on a tone of enthusiasm as she warmed to the topic. "Specialization is crucial in the magical arts. By focusing on a particular discipline or aspect of magic, one can hone their skills and develop a deeper connection to the underlying forces that govern their chosen path."

She gestured towards the half-built forge, the bricks and mortar coming together to form a testament to their combined efforts. "For example, I’m a master forger with a high specialisation in mettalomancy. From what my father taught me there’s a crystalline-organic core in my chest that makes metals malleable and obedient to my will.”

“Right,” Dave considered the blacksmith’s words, his thoughts wandering to the source of crystallized mana that lay nearby - the dungeon core within the mansion. He knew that if he drained it using his Phantomancy, his specialization and power would grow. As he contemplated this, his thoughts also turned to what Cedez had told him about her connection to Shandria.

"Do you think that someone could crystalize their mana on purpose outside of their body and then bind a small piece of themselves to it, imbue it with their best memories?" He asked, the idea taking root in his mind. "To create a non-insane dungeon core, a ward artifact that would persist for hundreds of years and grow stronger and more dangerous over time just like a dungeon does?"

Remicra's eyes gleamed with interest as she mulled over the question. "Such a device would require a cadre of insanely powerful archmages working together," she mused, her voice filled with wonder at the possibility.

"I bet when the Shadow Empress took Shandria by force, she did exactly that to secure the city under her rule," Dave said, his voice tinged with excitement at the prospect. "Maybe she wanted to preserve her legacy in stone... err, crystal, to make sure that her city would never be taken by another. I bet all cities of the Shadow Empire have cloud rings around them and a dark foxgirl just like her looking for heroes to recruit to her cause!"

"An interesting speculation on the nature of the Sovereign Shadow," Remicra said, her eyes thoughtful as she considered the implications of Dave's theory. "People can die, but a magisteel-protected crystal artifact would be immortal. If such a thing is buried somewhere in the depths of the central white tower, reinforced with a thousand wards and with more crystals spread along the city walls, supported by city-wide runework that feeds on everyone in the city... Yes, I can see it. It would be a marvel of engineering, a self-sustaining system, a magitek engine that grows stronger and more intelligent with every century, just like a dungeon does."

Dave's thoughts turned to Cedez, her playful, overtfully cheerful demeanor that he had grown so fond of. He found himself pondering the complex nature of her personality, which could at times seem contradictory. As he reflected on their interactions, he began to see her belligerence as arising from a sort of innocence, a manifestation of her struggle to balance her maturity in many ways with her relative youth as a living idea in other aspects.

In a way, Cedez's existence seemed to mirror that of a self-learning program, one that was well-versed in the intricacies of its purpose yet still understanding how to interact and connect with others on a deeper level. Dave couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the foxgirl as he considered the limitations her vast charisma magic placed upon her.

Cedez's innate, near-absolute power was undoubtedly a double-edged sword, as most people couldn't touch or speak to her without succumbing to her influence. This, in turn, prevented her from having more authentic and varied experiences, further hindering her ability to grow and develop as an individual. He began to understand just how lonely and isolated Cedez's existence might be, and how much she may have been seeking a genuine connection with someone who could see past her magical allure.

"Why didn't she just tell me that she's a manifestation of the ward?" Dave muttered, frustration creeping into his voice. "That would have made things much less weird and confusing…"

"Oh, really?" Remicra retorted, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Personally, I wouldn't want to be friends with a magical echo of the city's ward projected by an ancient artifact buried somewhere deep under the city." She shook her head, her expression a mixture of disbelief and amusement. "Who knows what kind of idiotic rules the Shadow archmagi bound her to obey two hundred years ago? I certainly don't. What if she suddenly decides that you're an enemy of Shandria and eats you? Your plan to make a little shadow your pet was far less idiotically reckless than your current plan of befriending the biggest shadow in town. Is your goal to get eaten?"

"My goal is to find a way to fix this broken world," Dave answered, his determination unwavering.

"You can't fix Arx," The dragoness grinned. "You can't even build a smithy without me doing most of the work! You get tired after lifting three bricks!"

"I'm a programmer, not a bricklayer," Dave countered, his pride stung by Remicra's words.

"I don't know what a programmer is," Remicra laughed, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "But if it's anything like your bricklaying skills, I'd say the world is going to get fixed in a million years and look like the most lopsided smithy ever built."

Dave rolled his eyes but couldn't help smiling at the playful banter.

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